


A Promise Kept

by pilotslifeforme



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: AU, alternate storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29753493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pilotslifeforme/pseuds/pilotslifeforme
Summary: Wedge ensures his two of his closest friends make it back home after the Battle of Hoth. Events are based off of Legends, Canon, and personal creative liberties.
Kudos: 2





	A Promise Kept

The small transport was barely hanging together as Wedge’s weary hands tried to keep it steady. He was exhausted, not just from recovering two dead weights of Hobbie and Janson who were barely conscious and the other almost completely unresponsive. He wasn’t going to leave them there to freeze over when they had a chance still, so he dragged them all the way back to base— he was lucky it had been mostly cleared out and many of the Imperials had left already.

He recalled the hangar bays being littered with bodies, some of the snow speeders still left behind with their pilot having fallen just short of them from either blaster fire, or what looked to be slashes from some sort of sword. He tried to pay no mind to it as he saw a transport shuttle that was practically falling apart— but it was the only thing big enough to carry them all.

He’d dragged the two inside the shuttle and propped them both on the benches inside behind the cockpit. Wes groaned, he’d taken a blow to the head from the side of the canopy when their speeder hit the ground not to mention the shrapnel flying about as well. He was unconscious and shifting about, a grimace on his face. Hobbie, on the other hand— was in far worse condition. He recalled hearing his static on the comms, and when one of the AT-ATs went up in flames and toppled over, he took note of the position just before being shot out of the sky by something from an unknown origin. He remembered pulling a bleeding Janson from the speeder, and seeing the burning wreckage of the downed walker.

He’d dragged Janson through the deep snow all the way over the the walker, having set Wes down he entered the wreck. He made way towards what looked to be the front section, and he spotted the snow speeder lodged in the cockpit. Quickening his pace as he staggered and damn near tripped over the bodies and wreckage inside, he saw the canopy of the snow speeder had shattered completely.

Hobbie was slumped forward, and the wreckage was oddly silent. So silent that he could hear the drops of blood from Hobbie’s face hitting the instrument panel. It wasn’t visible to him as his broken helmet covered it as he hang motionless. He was practically hanging from his restraints, and it didn’t look good. Wedge got as close as he could, pushing back his buddy to see his face. He didn’t have time to be upset, to really process his friend’s gashed and bloody face. He was hardly recognisable.

“Hobbie,” he said quietly, “hey,” he gave him a light shake. He wasn’t leaving him there, dead or alive. He wasn’t even sure how he’d get him out of there, not without some sort of sawing tool...but he’d try. He gave his friend one last small shake, before resigning to looking around for some tools that would help get him out of the heavily damaged speeder. Breaking the silence came a heavy wheeze and cough from Hobbie, and Wedge whipped around to grab his friend’s shoulders as blood from the poor pilot’s cough splattered on Wedge’s shoulder. Hobbie was hanging slightly above him, so if he cut the restraints he’d have to handle all of Hobbie’s weight coming down.

The problem wasn’t that. It was the fact the pilot barely had an arm and if not for his heavy layers for the cold, he likely would’ve had more injury. Wedge cut the restraints, bracing himself the best he could to hold Hobbie’s weight. It didn’t go well and Wedge’s arms damn near gave out on him as his adrenaline came and went in spikes, and he fumbled backwards with Hobbie landing down on him. 

Trying to catch his breath again after hitting the metal flooring hard, he held onto his friend tightly. “I’ve got you, I—“ he started, shifting to move him before he saw the extent of the damage to his legs. His heart sank, but he heard Hobbie make a small whimper and his brows furrow ever so slightly, and that was motivation enough. He dragged him back to Wes, and wasted no time alternating dragging the two back to the base.

And there they were, on a hardly functioning transport. Wedge kept it on course for an MC75 still in system. He figured they were waiting for more evacuees, but he couldn’t call out to know for sure. All of the comm systems were down, and the ship moved dreadfully slow. The adrenaline dissipated and all Wedge knew was a horrible pain that engulfed his entire body. Shaking his head as he breathed through his teeth with each wave of burning pain and soreness, he looked back over his shoulder to the unresponsive Hobbie before turning to look at a distressed and shifting Wes. He swallowed hard and tightening his loosening grip on the controls.

He was thankful for the adrenaline rush the entire time on ground, as he was sure he’d have some sort of injuries but he didn’t bother to check. His main focus was getting his friends back home as safe as possible— and he was doing just that. His vision kept blurring and greying out, sometimes a black vignette creeped into his field of vision. Each time he tried to shake his head of it as he held the ship in place to dock with the MC75. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it up into the hangar, but he’d try.

He fought back against his body the best he could as he guided the ship up and into the hangar, setting it down a little harshly with some minor skidding, but that was fine. The second they were inside and on some solid and familiar surface, Wedge let go of the controls and leaned back. He winced from a sharp pain that hit him, and his gloved hand immediately went to the source at the side of his stomach. He held it there but the pain didn’t fade. 

Pulling his hand away he looked down to see the black gloves soaked in blood. His eyes fell to the injury and saw a very large bleeding gash along with various other injuries and a few small pieces of shrapnel in his calves and shins that had sliced through his boots and several flight suits. Exhaling heavily as his head rolled back into the headrest, he let his arms drop to his side as his exhaustion took over and he no longer fought the tunnel vision that quickly took over.

Hearing voices yelling and the hiss of the transport opening dulling— his eyes drooped shut. The levels of pain his body was experiencing were astronomical and he felt things start to shut down or go cold. He hoped, however, that Wes and Hobbie were pulled out and taken straight to medical. His thoughts soon faded and one of the last few things he felt were the overwhelming pain and the shake of his shoulder as if somebody was trying to get his attention.

Next thing he knew, he was welcomed with bright white lights. He slowly turned his head to his left to see Janson, and he was cleaned up. He turned his head to the right, but there was no one there. His breathing grew heavy as he felt his eyes water a little. He fought so hard to get him home, and his life shouldn’t have to be a sacrifice. A medical droid approached him, “Lieutenant Antilles, how are you feeling?” It asked, and Wedge simply asked, “Where’s Lieutenant Klivian?”

The medical droid paused for a moment before responding. “Lieutenant Klivian is still in the operating room, they have been working on him for over 14 hours,” the droid stated.

“Will he be okay?” Wedge asked, trying to sit up but was welcomed with a surge of unbearable pains all across his body. He went to pull the oxygen mask off his face before the droid lightly tapped his hand.

“I advise you to leave the oxygen mask on, Lieutenant Antilles,” the droid said shortly. “Lieutenant Klivian is expected to survive the operations. Though he will be without prosthetics for roughly a month. He will not return to flying until he proves he is capable of handling flight with his new accessories.” The droid gave him a dose of painkillers before tilting its head at the pilot.

“You will rest now, Lieutenant Antilles, soon you will have visitors when you wake next.” The droid said as Wedge felt a heaviness wash over him almost instantly and felt his eyes close and was instantly put to sleep.

A medical advisor entered the room addressing the droid, “How are they?” He asked.

“They are well, all vitals are reading normal,” the droid explained. “I was worried Lieutenant Antilles would not make it, he was worse off than Lieutenant Janson, but he is rather stubborn it seems.” The droid gestures to the sleeping pilot, and the medical advisor gave a light chuckle.

“Well, this is Rogue Squadron we’re talking about,” the advisor said as he went over their vitals, “and I do hope we’ll hear the story of just how he managed to survive almost an entire day and a half on Hoth and recovering two pilots and making it out here to safety. I’m not surprised that the man who managed to do something like this was Wedge Antilles himself, nor am I surprised they’re all pulling through better than predicted.” He gave a light sigh. The advisor and the droid left the room.

Somehow, Wedge had upheld his promise to his closest friends. Sometimes he was unable to uphold that promise for others out of his control— but this, he felt, was entirely in his control and he’d be damned if he left them behind.

So he ensured that he’d see to it they all got back home, and he’d do it all again if it meant those two had a chance at life.


End file.
